Another mid-night awakening and then no sleep because I was
thinking of people coming into my home – it isn’t a good feeling. I have some valuable stuff, though more of it
is emotional value. 60 days notice to
move fine – coming in via a lockbox…I’m not liking that very much at all. Then I had to sign this paper for them..that
was probably worst of all. Finally I
drifted off, though and awoke to that horrible alarm. I learned this morning through a link from
Susan that legally, I should be given 24 hours’ notice from my landlord before he
visits (so now more “I’m on my way to ----“) and the real estate agent. Good.
I’ll let them know tomorrow morning.
The neat thing is the temperature was 48 as we headed off in the car – 9
Celsius, I believe. I’m trying to learn the
other way of temperature. 
Supervision went well.
I told Susan I feel so…mentally unhelpful, as if nothing I’m doing is
doing anything and she suggested it is probably because the kids I feel that way
with are doing ok now…they have the tools they need to work through
issues. The ones that are going through
crisis do need me. That made me feel a little better. I also spoke with Sweet Haley who is soon on
her way to Texas with her baby belly and her husband - she gave me suggestions
as to what I can do to up my psychoknowhow once my current chaos is easing….
I went home to pack more…still on edge, a bundle of
nerves. The person showing a possible
rental had said can I meet her at 11:30 then never responded as to which day,
so I headed over. She meant Sunday, of
course. Back again, loading up al the beer
stanges and großes glasses from my CH years.
This mean more to me than all those Waterford crystal glasses I have –
because there are memories attached, great memories. Then I noticed – somebody stole my dad…or I packed
him somewhere that I don’t recollect. I don’t want to unpack everything
again. I’ve been doing this very robotly
and thinking about 20 million other things, so I have no idea where he is.
Went to visit my client.
Just heart breaking and there support is really all I can give. Grabbed Mags, brought her home, grabbed Ethan
from basketball, and brought him home.
Driving. So much driving. I could “be on the road with my own rig” if I
had chosen trucker – and I’d make twice as much as I do right now, too. I’d need a CB though. "Roger, Roger, 10-4, copy – over ‘n out." Off to Parent Project tonight.
My thighs are so damn sore and it isn’t from exercise – it’s
all this stress-eating (chocolate in particular) I have started. I am truly and legitimately terrified of
cranberry season. My goal is to hit Switzerland
first, them I’ll come back and make them.
On the way home after a late group, I stopped by and got 4 Lindt chocolate
bars. This was a very bad idea. I need to start yoga again. Run. Dance. Have sex
Pictures: A plane Ethan built when he was 3 (Violet is photobombing); Property that reminds me of the ranch behind our house in Midland...house siting up on a hill off of Mockingbird Lane, nice and humble - not the horrific McMansions in the area now; my colleague/therapist today, Bonnie; Nature.
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